


Stimulation

by quantumducky



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: "this wasn't intended to be sexual but now you're turned on what now", AU: everything is domestic and nothing hurts, Asexual Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Communication, Established Relationship, Fade to Black, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, aka: double the projection for me!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: “Jon? Could you come in here a minute?”Martin’s voice has that tone to it, the one that usually means he’s up to something. Jon sets down the grocery list he’s been working on and goes. He finds his fiancé in their bedroom, sitting a little nervously on the bed. He is wearing lacy, pastel blue lingerie, and nothing else.In which Martin is trying something new, and Jon has always liked the texture of lace.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 13
Kudos: 253
Collections: Aspec Martin Blackwood Week





	Stimulation

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the people in the magnus writers discord for the conversation that inspired me to write all of this in one sitting <3
> 
> season 5? what season 5? all i know is this alternate universe where they are soft and domestic and engaged

“Jon? Could you come in here a minute?”

Martin’s voice has that tone to it, the one that usually means he’s up to something. Jon sets down the grocery list he’s been working on and goes. He finds his fiancé in their bedroom, sitting a little nervously on the bed. He is wearing lacy, pastel blue lingerie, and nothing else.

“Oh,” Jon says, a smile coming easy to his face. “Is that what you wouldn’t let me see when you came back from the shops earlier?”

Martin laughs sheepishly. “I didn’t want to show you until I was sure I liked it enough to keep it.”

“And I take it you do.” He walks over to stand next to the bed for a closer look.

“Yeah. What do you think? I mean, not that I expect you to be-  _ into _ it or anything, obviously, but… you know. How does it look?”

Jon knows what he means. When Martin talked about maybe getting himself something like this before, he got the impression it wasn’t necessarily a sexual thing for him, either. “It’s pretty,” he assures him. “Suits you. I like the… Well, I’ve always liked lace. It, uh, it has a very nice texture. Do you… mind if I-?”

His hand is already half stretched out, as if to finish the sentence for him, and Martin takes it and gently tugs him closer until Jon is perched in his lap. “Yes, you can feel the fabric if you want,” he says, fond.

“Ah- thank you.” Jon settles himself comfortably on Martin’s thighs- broad and soft enough that he might stay there all day, if it wouldn’t make Martin complain about things like “not being able to do anything like this” and “losing circulation in his legs-” and starts brushing his fingers lightly over the lace covering his hips. Martin shivers.

Jon looks up. “Alright?”

Martin blushes a little. Martin will blush at just about  _ anything, _ really. It’s one of the things Jon loves about him. “Just- a bit ticklish, there. …And if you do it again on purpose now that I’ve said that, I’m pushing you off and getting dressed.”

“I would never,” Jon says solemnly. He holds a serious face for nearly two whole seconds before giving in to the urge to kiss Martin’s pink-dusted cheeks and make him laugh.

True to his word, when he returns his attention to the lace, Jon makes sure his touch is firmer than before. He was exactly right about how nice it would be to run his hands over. Just the right balance of textured and silky-soft. There used to be lace doilies in his grandmother’s house, when he was growing up. She was always annoyed when he would crumple them up in his hands just to feel them. He sort of wishes he’d asked to take one with him when he moved out, even if she’d probably have said no. He can’t exactly ask to borrow Martin’s undergarments every time he wants something to rub between his fingers. Maybe Jon will talk to him about finding something similar that won’t be quite so inappropriate to hold in public- later, though. He suspects it might be a bit uncomfortable to bring up his grandmother in the middle of this  _ particular _ situation.

Jon went on a Wikipedia binge once that included learning all about how lace is made. That’s what he’s thinking about, tracing over and over the delicate patterns under his fingers, when Martin makes a strangled little noise and taps his arm.

Very suddenly, and with no little heat rising to his face, Jon becomes aware once again of what  _ exactly _ he’s touching. And the fact that the fabric is… somewhat more  _ stretched out _ than it started.

“Sorry,” they say in unison, and then both fumble to correct themselves until they trail off in mutual understanding, because it’s not as if either of them did anything on  _ purpose. _ Jon pulls his hands away hastily and moves to stand up.

“I’ll just, ah, leave the room, so you can- do whatever you need to do?” Whether that’s bringing himself off or simply calming down and maybe putting more clothes on- Jon doesn’t want to assume.

Martin nods, but there’s a moment of hesitation, a little catch in his voice when he says, “Sure.”

“Or… I could stay, if you wanted. It’s not…” He thinks over his words. “I’m not uncomfortable right now, and I wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you wanted me to, ah,  _ help. _ It was just that you seemed… well, I didn’t want to make  _ you _ uncomfortable, if it’s… not that sort of day.”

“Stay, please,” Martin says, pushing the words out in a rush before he can lose them to feeling awkward.

If Jon was endeared by his slight flush earlier, he can hardly be blamed for wanting to pepper his face with little kisses when the whole of him turns red now. “Of course.” He tucks himself back in Martin’s lap and decides he much prefers this solution. This way, he gets more of that sweet, sweet cuddle time. “Do you want me to do anything, or just be here?”

Martin blushes deeper, if that’s still possible. “Um. C-could you… keep touching me? Like you were, only, uh. More  _ on purpose _ this time.”

Jon kisses him a few more times and lets the movement of his hands answer that question for him. “Like this?”

He gasps, his own hands going to Jon’s shoulders for an illusion of better stability and eyes fluttering shut. “Ah- y-yeah- just, just like that,  _ fuck, _ Jon, keep going  _ please-” _

“I shall try my hardest not to be distracted by the lace this time,” Jon says primly, “but I’m not sure I can make any promises.” He can’t help the satisfied smile that takes over his face when Martin isn’t coherent enough to answer the teasing with more than a groan and a light swat to his arm.

When all is said and done- well, just  _ done, _ mostly- they curl up together on the bed, now both fully clothed.

“I was going to wear that for the rest of the day, you know,” Martin complains. “Didn’t even last an hour before I had to throw it in the laundry.” Sounding cross about the whole thing doesn’t work as well as he wants it to when the words are half mumbled, his cheek smushed against the top of Jon’s head.

Jon smiles and laces their fingers together. “Well, then… I suppose you’ll have to go back to that shop. Wouldn’t be a problem, if you had more than one pair.” He worries his lower lip between his teeth. “…And I might like to go with you.”

Martin props himself up on an elbow and looks down at him. “For me, or for you?” A second later, he kisses Jon’s nose. He must look exactly the way he feels.

“I, I mean- both? I  _ do _ think you should get more, if you like them. And, well, I think we’ve established by now that I… quite enjoy the texture of lace.”

“We’ve definitely established  _ that,” _ Martin agrees. His voice is dripping with affection, and he gives Jon another kiss. “When do you want to go?”

“Hmm.” He closes his eyes. “Not today.”

“No, I’ll be surprised if we get  _ anything _ done, the rest of today.”

Jon hums in agreement. He’s not even the one who’s just had an orgasm, and  _ he _ feels sleepy, far too content under the warm weight of Martin’s arm and the afternoon sunshine to think of going anywhere. “Tomorrow, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Martin sighs and nuzzles into Jon’s hair. He’s not even washed it today- last time he had a haircut, he was scolded about drying it out with too much washing, so he’s been trying to do better- yet he feels Martin smile as if there’s nothing he would rather rub his face against than Jon’s slightly oily head. “But right now, I’m thinking a nap sounds good.”

“A nap sounds…” He yawns. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Good, because I wasn’t planning on letting you up.”

“I could get up if I wanted to,” Jon argues, faux-indignant. “I’m small and slippery.”

“You’re  _ small, _ I’ll give you that.” As if to demonstrate, Martin wraps an arm around his back and squeezes him against his own chest. “Absolutely tiny,” he concludes, while Jon exhales and goes slightly limp under the deep pressure. “But I don’t think you’re going to be squirming away from me any time soon.”

That’s because Jon isn’t  _ trying _ to squirm away, because he  _ likes _ where he is. And because if he changed his mind on that, he’d just ask to be let up, not wriggle out of Martin’s arms like a cat that’s decided it’s done being held. He doesn’t say any of that, though, because the process of turning thoughts into an actual out-loud sentence sounds like a lot of work when he’s this relaxed. He doesn’t want to bother. Instead, he mumbles something vaguely rebuttal-shaped and tucks his head under Martin’s chin, and in a matter of minutes, they’re both getting their nap.


End file.
